


At The Ball

by ohelrond



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Frotting, M/M, PWP, Rimming, the single gayest... thing i ever wrote..
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-25
Updated: 2016-10-25
Packaged: 2018-08-24 16:17:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8379019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohelrond/pseuds/ohelrond
Summary: It's a masquerade ball. It's cliche. Things get hot and heavy for a certain lieutenant and his dreamboat boyfriend. Thomas and James sneak off to be naughty. Pwp.





	

A masquerade ball. How cliché. London becomes the playground of the rich and influential in the summer as Parliament takes its summer recess and releases its grand gentlemen of Lords and hot blooded youths of Commons with all the celebration of a new year. The kings of tomorrow dance through the streets from home to hall for fireworks and festivals and frivolity as their fathers take their brandies and wines and ports in glasses with no bottoms and seduce little ladies half their age that their wives pretend not to notice.

Lieutenant McGraw has found himself thrust into this world somewhat abruptly under the wings of the Hamiltons. Miranda, the future Lady Hamilton, takes to the season like an eagle to the clear sky of dawn whilst Thomas holds back a little. Women try their luck with him at ball after ball, country ladies from Devon to Derbyshire and city daughters from Norwich to Newcastle trying to catch his eye throughout the summer months but his gaze never strays from his wife, loyal husband that he is. No lady, regardless of her breeding, can capture his attention, though. Despite how hard they try.

James is still in his naval uniform at this ball. He has no fine clothes. Thomas offered once to have new clothes made for him, to pay for a new wardrobe, but after James declined somewhat awkwardly, uncomfortably, Thomas learned never to offer again. He looks fine in his uniform. Dark blue, cream and white, gold. Thomas watches him from across the great hall and bites his lip. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of men in their navy uniforms, all wearing the compulsory eye masks, but it is not a struggle to find James in the throng. Even if they had not come together, the three of them, Thomas would be able to find Lieutenant McGraw in a crowd of thousands.

James can feel a prickle on the back of his neck and he turns away from the group of fellow officers to look around. Colourful dresses and curls and glittering faces fill the grand space until the air is thick and heavy and alcohol perfumes the hall and there is hardly room to move – but James still catches Thomas’ eye. Thomas wears a deep red mask over his eyes that matches Miranda’s dress. Despite the heat of a thousand bodies in one room, the look Thomas gives him sends shivers down James’ spine. He swallows thickly, holding his gaze for a long moment and his lips quirk slightly in the hint of a smile, before he turns back to the men and pretends to listen to them.

Miranda pulls him for dances and her eyes are bright and feet are light and when she smiles and laughs with him he is almost blinded by her. His hands hold her close by the waist, by the fingers, and he loves her, he truly loves her. He adores her. But it is not her that his body aches for. It is not her that has him feeling weak at the knees.

She is stolen away by Peter Ashe, a theft she is a willing party of and sweeps into his arms happily, laughing, leaving James amongst the dancing couples suddenly. Sweat drips from his forehead and down his temples and his palms are hot and damp when he feels a hand clasp around his.

“Come with me,” a low voice whispers in his ear, and James feels himself being led through the crowds. Just the feeling of their fingers being intertwined stirs him and his stomach swoops and his heart races.

“Won’t someone see?” James manages to grunt as he is pushed against the stone wall of a half empty corridor. It’s dangerous, being this open, isn’t it?

Thomas’ mouth is against his neck, hands grasping at his sides, and James can’t see straight. “No one cares,” comes Thomas’ throaty reply. “Do you want me to stop?”

James feels his brow furrow and his mouth opens in a silent moan when Thomas presses his thigh between his and his head drops back. James breathes heavily and forces his eyes open and realises he has been brought to his tiptoes already. He pushes Thomas away just enough to look at him, their masks still covering half their faces, and grabs his hand. This time, is it James that leads. Couples dot the entrance hall, hands deep in dresses and jackets, not seeming to care that the shadows only half conceal them, but James and Thomas pay them no mind. Not even the sight of Henry Boyle, Chancellor of the Exchequer having his face buried in the chest of his wife’s niece could distract them.

“Where are we going?” Thomas asks as they begin climbing the grand marble staircase. Turning on the stair above him, James pulls him close for a kiss that leaves Thomas giddy and the lieutenant pulls at the ribbon holding Thomas’ mask on, pushing it to the steps. He blinks, imagining James wrapping his legs around him and having him right here on the staircase for all of England to see. Then James is running his tongue along Thomas’ lips and Thomas finds himself running up the stairs and hurrying along the balcony in an attempt to find an empty room. Eventually, a room lined with books and couches dotting around. No candles are lit in this room, no fire in the hearth. Thomas wants to be able to see James. But it’ll do.

The heavy door clicks as it is closed and the lock is turned, and James finds himself pinned to it. His arms thrown above his head and held in place by a strong hand holding his wrists and a hungry mouth licks his ear. Thank God for the thousand-strong throng of guests in the hall below, loud enough to drown out James’ moans even here.

“We should- we should go home, wait until home-“ he stutters. His head falls back against the wooden door and arms drop back down to his sides as Thomas works quickly to push away his tunic, his waistcoat, whatever else stands in the way of his hands and James’ skin.

“Do you want me to stop?” Thomas asks him again, and it makes James laugh shortly, breathlessly.

“Never.”

James attempts to return the favour once his entire torso is free from clothing but Thomas stops his hands from opening a single one of his buttons. “Don’t tease me, Thomas.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

“For what?”

James’ question is quickly cut off when Thomas drops to his knees and pulls at the fastenings on his breeches. James has to grab at the doorknob for support and he is brought to his toes when he feels Thomas’ wet tongue sliding over him. He can’t look, it’s too obscene, too good, too-

“Fuck.” It’s a quiet whisper, a soft moan, and James draws in a sharp breath. Thomas never speaks foully. Not unless they’re like this. And he knows how much it affects James.

“Thomas, I swear I won’t last long-!”

Hamilton looks up and their eyes meet as he slowly takes him between his lips, stroking his sensitive underside with his tongue, his hand covering that which his mouth cannot. It makes James’ thighs tremble. “Thomas!”

It doesn’t stop Thomas from bobbing his head once, twice, thrice, until James feels his stomach tighten and he is dizzy and close, so close, and-!

“God!”

Thomas stops before anything can come of it, but he pulls his lover’s breeches off, his shoes and stockings, until there is nothing left covering his freckled skin. Again, Thomas stops any attempt of James to undress him, an eyebrow cocked. “Take off that damn mask.” He smiles when he complies.

“What are you doing?” James asks breathlessly as Thomas lays down on the floor and reaches out his hand for James. He feels incredibly vulnerable, his being naked and his lover being clothed, but Thomas… Thomas in his finery is… is something else. James blinks hard as he looks down at him and he kneels. Then he is curling his hand around himself and watching Thomas as he strokes himself, his lower lip coming between his teeth. Thomas watches for a moment, trying to keep his eyes on his lover’s face but they drop between James’ legs again and again until he can hold back no longer. He grabs him by the wrists and yanks him atop him, James willingly following his lead until Thomas has grabbed his hips and pulled him up to his head. The lieutenant bites his knuckle hard as the other man arranges him quickly on his face, spreading James’ cheeks and hungrily licking between them. James hears Thomas inhale him deeply through his nose, the nose that presses against his sacs between his legs, and he moans and whimpers, thighs shaking. Time passes. Seconds, hours, James doesn’t know, all he knows is Thomas’ tongue against him, inside him, making him leak against his stomach, and there are nail marks on his palms.

“I want to be inside you!” James manages to moan. His legs buckle and he ends up kneeling either side of Thomas’ head, Thomas’ wig caught under one of his knees. He rolls onto his side and looks up at him, eyes soft. James looks down his body and sees a damp patch between his legs. “Tell me you brought something to use.”

Thomas cracks a smile, not even having the decency, James thinks, to look remorseful. “I thought you wished for nothing but honesty between us.”

“Bastard!” But he’s laughing, climbing atop his hips and pushing away his trousers. Licking his hand, he reaches between them and strokes Thomas and watches as his face creases. Eyes close, mouth opens, back arches. James slides himself into his hand, pressing and squeezing them together and he moves his hips. Thomas’ hands fly to his waist and he sits up suddenly, James still in his lap, and kisses him hard. Pushes his tongue into James’ mouth, sucking on his lip, biting gently. James flings an arm around his shoulders and continues to stroke them. They are both close already. The tension between them getting to them as much as physical touch, making them shake and tremble and moan into each other’s mouths. Then James is stroking them hard and fast and Thomas buries his face into his neck, leaving marks with his teeth and lips. He finishes first, choking as he spills, and it sends James into a final spiral too that makes his body jerk and wrenches guttural moans from his chest. They clutch at each other in the aftermath, kisses becoming softer, bodies becoming softer, cooler. The whisper each other’s names.

James rests his forehead against Thomas’ and closes his eyes, his breathing returning to normal. The sound of the ball downstairs begins to register again and a small smile appears on his face. “I think we’re missing out on a lot of fun.”

Thomas runs his warm hands up and down his lover’s broad, strong back, and allows a smile of his own to spread across his lips. “Oh, I don’t think we’re missing out on any fun at all.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes, it is so.” Gently, Thomas kisses him again, tenderly. “Here I have all the conversation I might ever need with my truest love. Down there, I must share him with those who seek his opinions and company whilst pretending that he is nothing more than my friend. Where is the fun in that?”

“Is there no fun in the suspense?” James murmurs. Thomas’ easy declarations like that are not so easy for him, and while they make him giddy he does not often know how to answer them with words.

Thomas runs a soft finger down the side of James’ jaw. “Does that still make you uncomfortable?”

He shakes his head and pulls back enough to meet his gaze. “It makes me feel incredibly loved.”

“You are incredibly loved.”

“I know,” James whispers, closing his eyes again. “So are you. With all my heart and soul, so are you.”

**Author's Note:**

> How lovely are y'all in the Black Sails fandom?! Thank you so much for your support on my last fic! Someone requested more rimming and I hope that filled that gap in the market at least a little! Anyway all y'all are so kind and lovely and supportive the nicest fandom ever. Who else is hoping for some hot n heavy Thomas/James flashbacks in S4 who else knows that's absolutely not going to happen and wants to fling themselves into the sun??! Anyway!! Thank you!
> 
> How come I can write 2k worth of homo sex in 2 hrs but 2k words on university essays takes like 2months..........


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